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THE STOLEN GREY
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man on the place was mounting to ride in pursuit of the thieves.
"Just a minute and I'll go, too," he said, as his foreman excitedly explained the situation. ' ' I need excitement. I came out here for a change, and guess I 'm going to get it. ' '
So, after a quick change to cowboy attire, Maynard galloped across the mesa at the head of his men. The watchful half-breeds saw them afar off, and, abandoning their work, dashed away on fleet little ponies, their red shirts making gay splotches of color against the brown plain.
"They're makin' for the ravine trail," said the foreman. "We'll cat across by Dolan's place and save a few miles."
As they neared Dolan's, the foreman gave a yell: "Hi, Dolan, get yer horse ! ' '
There was no reply.
"Guess there's no one here," said one. "Let's not lose no time."
Bui Maynard, riding up to where a clump of scrub pines with their low-growing branches made a screen by the front gate, suddenly gave ,a cry that brought them all to his side.
"Here's my grey!" he exclaimed. ' ' She was stolen last week. I rode out the trail from towrn one morning and left her a few minutes while I went to get a drink. When I got back she was gone, and the prints on the trail showed that she had been led off. There was nothing I could do but Avalk back to town. Now, how do you suppose "
He was interrupted by a sharp exclamation as one of the boys jumped from his horse' and caught up a branding iron from the grass.
"Look at this!" he shouted, "and it's warm, too ! It's just been used."
They crowded around, examining and gesticulating, but the foreman's face grew set and stern as he looked from the handsome grey to the iron.
"Boys," he said, "it looks bad for Dolan. I was here a wTeek ago when he come home from town leadin' that grey for his girl's birthday present. Said he bought her down to the station. Now here's the horse, hot and
MAYNARD FINDS HIS STOLEN GREY
tired, and there's the iron, just been used and throwed down there, and where's Dolan? It sure looks mighty suspicious."
"But it cant be," urged Maynard. "Dolan has queer ways, but he's lived here for years. He's no thief."
"He's all wrapped up in that girl of his," replied the foreman, "and he 's spent a lot of money, sendin ' her East to boardin' school. You cant tell what any man will do when he gets daffy about a woman, no matter* whether it's a wife or a child or a sweetheart, A man will risk his life and soul to get 'em what they want. ' '
"Is that the girl?" asked Maynard. sharply.
They all turned to look. Coming thru the grove was Doris, bareheaded, flushed from running, waving a hand in greeting as she ran toward them.
' ' Lord ! We cant tell her, ' ' groaned the foreman.
But Doris began the conversation breathlessly.
"Father's gone up the ravine trail as fast as he can ride. Go after him, quick ! 1 'in so afraid!"
The boys exchanged puzzled glances. Was this a clever ruse? Could this ffirl with the fair face and clear, frank eyes of a child, be in league with thieves? After a moment's silence. Maynard bent forward, looking straight into the girl's dark eyes.